


First Love

by annegoddamn



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Break Up, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Sentence Starter Prompts, general cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annegoddamn/pseuds/annegoddamn
Summary: A collection of Yambul drabbles and quickies.





	First Love

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sentence Starters](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/333016) by astarials on Tumblr. 



**"you're adorable, you know that?"**

Yamcha blushed, turning away, sheepishly. "S-shut up… You're just saying that…"

Bulma looped her arm around his and leaned her head on his bicep. Her boyfriend was way too modest and prudish, for his own good. He nearly pissed himself, when she tried to kiss him on the cheek.

Now, he looked even more embarrassed. "H-hey. People might start watching."

She rolled her eyes, and grabbed the side of his face. He looked down at her with wide and scared eyes.

"Let 'em watch." She bold pulled him closer to her, and crashed his lips against hers.

**"how could you keep this from me?"**

He laughed, awkwardly, as he scratched the back of his neck. "I wanted it to be a surprise?"

She just gaped at him, as she crinkled up the newspaper. "Yamcha! This is huge! I would have wanted to be there, when you were at your first game!"

He put his hands up and shook them. "L-look, it was really last minute. I didn't know I'd be playing so soon, but I had to fill-in, for one of the regulars. It kind of screwed up my original plans."

She huffed, and looked away.

"Hey, Blue, I'm really sorry. I wanted you to be there, too, but they needed me, on the team. I didn't want to bother you or mess up your plans."

"Mess up my plans? I would have dropped everything and ran all the way to the stadium, if I had to! Do you think you don't mean anything, to me?"

"No, of course not! I just…" He sighed, and looked down. "I just didn't think it was worth the trouble."

"Yamcha."

He looked back up. She didn't look upset, anymore.

"I don't want you ever thinking that about yourself, ever again. If it's about you, you're well worth the effort. Am I clear?"

He nodded. She smiled up at him, and hugged him. "I am proud of you, though – four homeruns in one inning? That's amazing."

He mumbled out thanks, before nestling his face in the crook of her neck.

**"talk to me."**

Bulma still wouldn't look him, in the eyes. Yamcha could see them glistening with tears. She whispered something.

"What? If you have something you want to say tell me."

"I said I'm pregnant."

He stepped backwards in shock. Pregnant? As the information sunk in, he was overcome with joy. Was this finally happening? Was he getting the family he'd always wanted? He had waited for this moment for years, and now it was finally happening with the woman he loved.

Why was she upset?

Yamcha wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head against his chest. Maybe she was just scared. "Don't worry. I'll be right here, through everything."

"Yamcha, you're not the father."

**"i fucked up, alright? i'm sorry."**

"Damn right," she yelled. "Do you know how nerve-wracking it was to think if you were safe, out there?! I didn't think I'd ever see you, again!" She pouted, and turned away.

He put his hand on her shoulder, and turned her around. She was still refusing to make eye contact. "I'm here now, though; I came back. Can't that at least count for something?"

Her eyes shifted down, and moved in different directions.

He sighed, not feeling confident about his chances. "C'mon, Bulma. Just… just give me a chance."

After several tense seconds, she looked back up. She put her hands on his shoulders. "Alright. But if you ever leave me like that, again, this is over."

Relief filled him, as he pulled her close. He was never going to let this happen, again.

**"don't leave me! you're too warm."**

Bulma nestled her face into his neck, as he tried to pull up his pants.

"Bulma, I gotta go. The game's about to start."

She scooted into his lap, pushed back his shirt, and laid her hands on his bare chest. "Can't you take the first few innings off?"

He tried to pry her off of him. "You are impossible, you know that?"

There was a knock on the locked door. "Hey, Yamcha. You ready to go?"

He looked down at Bulma, who was giving him pleading eyes. He sighed. He grunted. "I'm feeling a bit nauseous, right now. Sorry. Can I sit out for the first few innings, sir?"

"Sure. Get out there, when you're ready, champ." He heard the coach walk away.

Bulma giggled, in delight. Yamcha rolled his eyes, and snaked an arm around her. "You owe me for this one…"

"Yeah, yeah. But you gotta admit that it was a nice surprise."

Before he could retort, she moved herself against his lap, making him grit his teeth.

"Think you can go for a few more rounds, tiger?"

He quickly stood up, and wrapped her legs around him, making her squeal. Mischief sparkled in his eyes. "You'll be passed out, by the seventh-inning stretch."

She shivered, knowing he'd make good on his promise.

**"we should try adding a third person."**

Yamcha nearly spit out his drink. He coughed, and tried to swallow. He looked over at Bulma, with shocked eyes. Where the hell did this come from? He must have hear that, wrong.

She shrugged. "Why not? It might be cool."

Oh god, she was serious. He cleared his throat. "I-I don't know. That might not be a good idea."

A sly smile grew on her face, as she scooted next to him. "C'mon: it's just sex. What's the worst that could happen?"

He let the idea sink in. If it were a onetime thing, and someone they could actually trust, maybe it would work. He scratched the back of his ear. "W-who did you have, in mind?"

She looked up. "What about Launch?"

He fell forward, and hit his head on the coffee table.

**"i shouldn't have left you."**

Bulma had buried her face into his chest. Her back hurt, she felt bloated, and Trunks wouldn't stop kicking. Yamcha was slowly running his hand up and down her back.

"You're so good to me. You always have been. I shouldn't have mistreated you, all those times. I didn't deserve you." Yamcha didn't respond. He just let her rant.

"I hate him," she cursed, as tears ran down her cheeks. "I hate him so damn much. If he ever comes back, I'll kick his ass right back out, where he belongs. I hope Trunks never knows about him."

He sighed. She didn't mean this – she never did. The next day, she'd be looking outside, waiting for the ship to land in her backyard.

"Y-Yamcha?"

"Yeah, Bulma?"

She pushed on his chest, so she could look him in the eyes. Her cheeks were puffy and red. "Can we be together, again? Please, we can make it work."

He wanted to say yes so much. He wished that they could go back to how things used to be. He'd be by her side, no matter what.

But he knew he couldn't.

He shook his head. "It's too late for us, now."

She grabbed at his shirt. "No, it's not! We can make this work! Please, Trunks needs a father, and you're the best man I've ever known! Please, Yamcha, please!"

He put his hands on her shoulders, and pried her off of his chest. He only gave her a stern look. Bulma looked up at him, still trying to plead with him. He wouldn't budge. She looked back down, and closed her eyes, nodding.

"But no matter what happens," he said. "I'm here for you."

Her breathing began to even out, and she wiped away her tears. She laid her head against his shoulder, sighing sadly.


End file.
